


People Fall in Love in Mysterious Ways

by malarryous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malarryous/pseuds/malarryous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Renaissance inspired fic, for Harry Styles is a masterpiece.</p><p>Harry likes being naked and is very much in love for the first time.<br/>Louis finds Harry irresistible.<br/>Both are oblivious of the other's feelings.</p><p>Or; Louis is an artist, Harry is art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	People Fall in Love in Mysterious Ways

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome. Have fun reading, I hope you like it. xx
> 
> Thanks to [this wonderful woman](http://seughun.tumblr.com/) for her remarkably helpful review of the work.

'Could you move your chin a bit to the left, Harry?'

A tall, slender figure is posing for a painter, his curly locks intertwined falling down over his shoulders, striving down to reach his nipples. His body is attractive, his stomach taut and his shoulders and hips broad. His arms are strong and muscular and his eyes are the most beautiful shade of innocence. He's got a girl's loveliness in his countenance, and luscious lips alike a cracked fig. The edges of his jawline are as sharp as a knife, and his cheekbones are accentuated. The sea green hues covering the meadow around his pupils glimmer as he rolls his eyes.

'And stand still, you're wriggling too much.'

Harry clicks his tongue and sighs impatiently, but obeys and fixes his pose. 'Don't be sulky. It's just for three more minutes, I'm almost done.'

Harry has already started counting the 180 seconds when the artist exclaims, 'It's finished! It's finally finished! My spectacular vision of you, my love!' He reaches a hand towards Harry and lulls back exhausted into his chair, a grin spilt over his face. 'I present to you - _John the Baptist_!' Harry jumps enthusiastically from the stand and doesn't waste his time to put on some clothes, but stark naked approaches the artist. Harry's childlike beam fades when he sees the painting. He pouts, 'Leo, it doesn't do justice to my beauty. It's too dull, it's no fun at all. I liked _Bacchus_ better. At least I had trees around me in that one.' He sits on the painter's lap and scans the canvas, eyes widening. 'Dear Lord, and look at my face! I look like a horny pedophile! Seriously, Leo, you rarely cease to surprise me with your likings!' The artist is still lulled in his chair, seemingly sleeping while Harry investigates the painting further. 'The lines are too coarse; they don't compliment my royal skin. I'm a masterpiece, love, not a concoction! It's an absolute waste of my beauty, this painting,' he concludes and leans onto the painter's chest.

'What?' the painter mumbles as he wakes from the trance that has been caused by what he deems his best work so far.

Harry turns so as to face the painter, 'Were you even listening to me?!' He sighs, 'Oh, never mind,' and gets up from his comfortable seat. He slowly heads to the door, taking his time and seductively swaying his hips, knowing that now he has the artist's full attention. He stops at the door frame, turns on his heels and leaning on his bare side against it, tilts his head while playing with a lock of his hair. 'Let's go to bed now, you could atone to me for the wasted standing.' The model smirks.

Even the glorious Leonardo da Vinci succumbs to Harry's charm. There haven't been many willing to give up being Harry's lover due to his childish nature and promiscuous predilections.

'My dear, I could not put to words how much I'd love to indulge in your company tonight, but I cannot afford the pleasure. I need to paint more, I mustn't stop now, you know me - I rarely finish what I have started.' The painter turns away from Harry to collect his brushes.

Harry frowns and looks down disappointedly, but as soon as Leonardo glances at him, he makes an indifferent expression. Leo smiles and Harry shrugs and goes to the bedroom alone. He languidly puts on some clothes and retrieves to the artist. 'Well, Leo, I shall leave you now. I don't intend to waste a second more on this thing...,' he motions toward the painting buying his time to come up with something mildly offensive, '...deprived of spirit.' Stolid as he is, he slowly exits the room, hope that Leo will ask him to come back lingering in his heart. Since Leo does not, Harry slams the door behind him. He wasn't going to waste that night.

He decides to find another man to drown the boredom and disappointment in. Leo underestimates him. No one turned Harry down.

He needs to not think, he needs someone to take the sadness away and pander to his every whim, since Leo won't.

The night and indigo sky are preying on the town as these thoughts twirl in Harry's mind, and he confidently enters a dark street in search of a bar jovial enough to make him forget. 'Masquerade' reads a sign above the entrance of an inn. Harry muses upon the thought. 'Fuck it,' thinks he as he reaches for the doorknob.

'Welcome, my dear boy! Welcome!' shouts at him a man dressed as a puppet master, who seems to be the host. He shoves a mask into Harry's hands, which Harry turns around and sees it's a red one with devilish horns. He smirks. The puppet master whispers into his ear, 'You might get lucky tonight, with that one,' gesturing at the mask, and he winks. 'Bet I will,' mutters Harry as he thanks the man with a slight nod of the head and slides into a crowded room pounding with music and laughter. He pushes through the people to find a duvet on which he will drink until a suitable candidate appears. He spots a sofa in the back of the room, marks it fixedly with his eyes and casually springs his body on it as he takes red wine and starts sipping it slowly. He doesn't want just anybody. He needs to look carefully and find someone exquisitely good-looking and charming to awake Harry's passion. If not, he hopes that he will eventually be at least drunk enough not to care if his choice lives up to his standards.

He's finishing his third glass when his eyes land on the back of a brunette standing in a crowd across the room, masked as an angel. A long white silken gown is spreading a few centimeters behind him, but he doesn't seem to mind the mass of the material; quite the contrary, his gallant posture and elegant moves give the impression that he is very much at his ease. The fabric is like a bag, shapeless and long, and no curve or a body line is seen, except a convex area in the back of the gown. He is not short, but he is shorter than Harry, who imagines the athletic shape of the body beneath the dress. Not a piece of his skin is visible to Harry, and he thinks he could find a way under that gown... The angel appears to be laughing at something a boy from the group is saying, and he accidentally spills his drink. Harry watches amused and gets on his feet casually, like a cheetah ready to attack its victim. He sways his hair, takes two glasses of red wine and heads to that wonderful bum he sees.

'Excuse my directness,' the brunette turns to him and reveals a white ornamented angel mask, 'but I took the liberty to assume that you should like red wine,' he says courteously, fire in his eyes, and he bows slightly. 'Harry Styles,' he introduces himself to the startled angel, who soon smiles at Harry. 'Louis,' responds he in a bright alt of which Harry is immediately enamoured.

He isn't expecting such a tender voice, and is taken back by how only two syllables can enchant a person. 'Thank you. I do like red wine,' he reaches to take one of the glasses held in Harry's masculine hand when Harry gently grabs Louis's wrist. 'I suggest we should go to a more secluded area - I'm afraid we could not talk in here.' Harry smiles cheekily and Louis nods, a keen look on his face, 'Sure.'

~ ~ ~

Half an hour later they find themselves in Louis's bedroom, two tipsy men staggering in the dark. Louis manages to find a candle and lights it, placing it slowly on the small wooden nightstand next to his bed. Meanwhile, Harry has already made himself comfortable on it, and beckons Louis with his index finger, smirking. Louis bites his lower lip and heads slowly towards Harry who all of a sudden hops from the bed to his feet and takes the rims of Louis's gown into his hands and slowly starts picking the gown up over Louis's head and stops there, his hands holding the material on Louis's nape, covering Louis's eyes.

'Ummm Louis?'

'Yeeah?' he mumbles through the fabric.

'I think you've lost your underwear.'

'No, I haven't.'

'Yes, you have.'

'Let me rephrase it,' he pushes the gown over his head and lets it fall on the floor, inhaling deeply. 'I don't wear those.'

'Oh. I see.' He appears to be thinking for a moment,' Well, even better.'

'Is that so?,' he raises an eyebrow and smirks.

'Mmhmmm,' Harry murmurs taking off his mask and reaching for the one on Louis's face. At having taken Louis's mask off Harry stands speechless for a few moments, merely staring into Louis's eyes without blinking, not hiding admiration, unconsciously letting his arms fall down to his sides like tired limbs of a tree. If he tried, he couldn't conceal how entranced he feels. He goes with his tongue over his lower lip and gulps soundlessly.

Louis smiles bashfully and sits down on the mattress, leaning on the head of the bed. Harry slides in between Louis's legs, his back on Louis's torso, Louis's shanks on each of Harry's sides. Harry is the first to speak up.

'Please, tell me about yourself,' he demands as he strokes Louis's thighs with his long, sculpted fingers.

Louis lays his head back on his shoulders and shivers under Harry's touch. 'My father was a painter, but I look more like my Mum. I...'

'My dear, please spare me the story about your family. Family is overrated. They are rarely people you actually want in your life. I am not interested in listening about families, I'm interested in you.'

Shyness flies over Louis's face. 'Oh, pardon me, Sire.'

Harry cuts him off. 'Harry.'

Louis nods. 'Harry.' Harry turns to his stomach to face Louis as he kisses his chest.

'Carry on.'

'I want to uh...,' he gasps as Harry continues to place kisses all over his stomach. Noticing Louis has stopped talking, Harry lifts his head. Louis shakes into reality. 'Umm... I want to become a painter, I'm starting a new job tomorrow, as an apprentice, actually.'

'Mmmmm,' Harry mutters, his lips still travelling over Louis's bare body. He feels Louis tremble, and so he hoists his own body, 'In fact, I am not interested in talking at all.'

Louis gazes at him like a scared kitten as Harry surrounds Louis with his limbs and places his bare bottom on the area above Louis's thighs and below Louis's belly.

Later in the night, muffled words moaned between panting breaths are heard from the small fat on the outskirts of the town.

~ ~ ~

'Harry, wake up! Wake up, darling, it's a big day!'

The model hears Leo shouting and running around the flat stumbling on the way and knocking over vases and chairs. Harry is snuggled in his bed, groaning, eyes closed, his hands searching for a pillow to cover his pulsing head. The headache is the worst he has had in a while.

Leo comes in and shakes Harry. 'Get up and dress up as fast as you can. We're meeting the new apprentice today, remember?'

Harry mumbles under a pillow, 'Yeah, whatever.'

'Come on, dear. I know you don't like apprentices, but at least give him a shot. He might be good. Not everyone is Salai.' He chuckles.

Harry jumps from the bed and flings the pillow in Leo's direction. 'Do not mention that prat to me!'

He totters naked to the bathroom and sees his face in the mirror. His eyes are all swollen, the hair looking like a chicken's nest. He quickly takes the brush and fixes his locks. That's better.

Not having a choice, he walks into the bath inhaling deeply and clenches his teeth as he empties a jug of cold water over his body. Damn, it's freezing! 'It will help with my dizziness,' Harry reassures himself. Icy drops are dripping down his bum and his arms and his member. He repeats the procedure and trembles under the gushes of frozen liquid hell. Finishing the bath, he shakes his body like a puppy when it gets wet, and steps out. 'You'll pay for this, Leo,' he thinks for himself. 'You and your bloody apprentices!' he calls out to him.

'I just don't understand why _I_ have to be present. They are _your_ apprentices, I have nothing to do with them. I don't _want_ to have anything to do with them.'

Leonardo awaits him in front of the bathroom, handing him his clothes. 'You are important to me, Harry. You should like my assistants.'

'Ugh.'

Harry listlessly dresses and trudges to the window to lean against the wall next to it.

The house is a bright one, as pleasant as spring's day, the scent of freshly made herbal tea spreading around the dining room, which seems more spacious than it actually is due to the modest furnishings. There are only four wooden chairs and a simple square table in the middle of the room, and a hall connects it to the petite but cosy and functional kitchen.

He looks outside at the beautiful field and rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds and reminisces the previous night.

'Had a good night?' Leo reads his mind.

'Brilliant indeed,' Harry smiles and lets out a nostalgic sigh. 'I met the most beautiful eyes last night. They were as blue as the sky is at its best. When I met him they were baby blue. As we spoke they grew warmer, green meddling its shades into the mixture. As we made love, they turned icy blue.' He places the back of his hand on his forehead. 'I am overwhelmed, I must sit down.'

Leo clasps his hands together and grins as he's sitting down on a chair next to Harry's. 'Very well! I am delighted that you found another way to fulfill your needs.' He caresses Harry's face as Harry closes his eyes and lets his head fall on his own shoulder.

A knock is heard.

'Oh God!' Leonardo jumps from his chair and runs to the door. He fixes his clothes and glimpses Harry who has fallen asleep in his chair. Smiling widely, he opens the door to a young boy.

'Mr. Leonardo da Vinci?' asks a light male voice with a feminine quality to it.

'That would be me. Hello, come in, come in!' he hurries the boy in as he closes the door.

'I am sorry I'm late, Mr. Leonardo. I was busy last night and didn't get enough sleep.'

'Yes, of course, no problem, I know how it is.' He nudges his arm and winks at the boy who gives him a timid smile. 'I will show you my working area in a moment. This sleepy princess right here is my muse and favourite model .' He motions to Harry, whose limbs are scattered all around the chair, his head unnaturally bent down towards his chest and he is snoring softly.

' _This_ is your model?' says the boy, surprise in his voice.

'Oh, he's not always like this. He had a great night so his head is paying for it today.'

'I bet he did,' the boy smirks.

He approaches the chair Harry is sitting on. 'Hello?'

'Mmhmmmmm,' is heard from Harry's half-opened mouth. The boy repeats his greeting a bit louder. 'Helloooo?'

Harry is awaken, but too weak and too sleepy to open his eyes. He mutters too quietly for the painter to hear him, 'That voice... Leo, that's the one I was talking about... It's too distinctive to confuse with any other....'

The new boy crouches next to Harry's chair and whispers in his ear, 'Is that right?' Harry startles and falls out of his chair into reality. His eyes are wide open, senses strained, limbs out of control, head in circles. He holds his head still with his hands. 'You?!?' He gropes for a solid object to lean on and goes for the table to help him regain his balance.

'What are _you_ doing here?!'

Leo stands between the two. 'Harry, this is Louis Tomlinson. He's my late friend's son and he is going to be our new apprentice.' He goes to fetch three cups and tea and adds from the kitchen, 'Now, you could be a bit more welcoming, you know.' He turns around to see Harry sending flamed arrows in Louis's direction, Louis amused with the view. 'Please excuse his attitude, Louis. I don't know what has got into him this morning, but I am certain it will soon pass.'

Leonardo retrieves to the dining room to see the two boys in the same position. 'Well, I see you two are getting on. Let's enjoy a cup of tea before plunging into work.'

Harry's gaze is still fixed on Louis as Louis sips his tea and nods to a story Leonardo is telling.

'Harry was just speaking of someone he met last night. That boy seemed to be quite a catch, eh, Harry?' Leo nods in Harry's direction.

Harry rolls his eyes and drawls, 'Yes...'

'So what happened to that boy?' Leo starts questioning him since Louis doesn't seem to mind the random conversation.

Harry clears his husky voice, 'Nothing, really. We were shagging and he disappeared into thin air, leaving me in his own flat in the middle of the night.'

Louis frowns and sends a confused look in Harry's direction, but then, realising something, his face relaxes and he sniggers.

Leo is delighted, 'Ooooh wonderful! Mystery!' He turns to Louis, 'Harry always says he likes that best in a man.'

Louis sips his tea and nods, 'Who doesn't?'

Harry rolls his eyes and now more sober than not, gets up. 'I'll leave you two to talk about work. I shall retrieve to my room.'

He faces Louis and offers him his a handshake, 'Nice to meet you....,' he narrows his eyes, 'Lewis, Leon, Lion?'

Louis blinks, 'Louis.'

'Oh yes, Louis. Well, have a good day. Farewell.'

Louis gives Leo a dazed look as he hears Harry elegantly stagger into his room.

'Don't worry, Louis. Let him be. He will be back in no time. I know him.' Leo winks at Louis as he swallows the last nip of his tea. 'Come and see my canvases.'

They enter a room next door where a vast amount of unfinished paintings and drawings are hanged or put on the floor. They are all exceptional, impeccable even, but Louis doesn't see one that is finished. Louis scans all of them in amazement, coming closer to some in order to grasp as many details as possible. There are nudes. A lot of them actually and suddenly, Louis feels slightly uncomfortable. Leo catches him staring at a rather thorough study of a male's body. That figure looks familiar...

'I hope you do not mind the bare sincerity of my works,' he laughs, interrupting Louis's thoughts.

'I uh.. umm.. of course not. It's just... No one I know draws like this,' Louis struggles not to stutter.

'I figured. You will get used to it soon, I believe. Once you realise it's all nature and there's nothing to be ashamed of on your body, you will come to terms with my work, for it is nothing but a reflection of nature.'

Holding a canvas in his hands, the painter approaches Louis. 'And what do you make of this one? It's the last one I did, actually. It was just yesterday...'

Louis gently takes the canvas from the painter and extends his arms a bit so as to take a better look at it. He is holding a canvas with a dark background, a mix of brown and olive green, but the central figure in it is a pleasant-looking long haired man, smiling as if he were hiding a secret. Looking down towards the lower edge of the canvas, Louis thinks he notices a concealed erection. It can't be, though. Right?

'Harry dislikes it. He thinks it's too dull and bleak.'

Louis turns to the painter. 'I beg to disagree. The painting has its own story, I can see that. And the man in it... he is keeping something for himself, is he not?'

He hands the canvas to Leonardo. 'Well noticed, my boy. It's as if you knew the model.'

Louis does think the face of the man looks too familiar, but somehow fails to put a finger on it.

'I think you owe a lot to this painting, dear boy. If it hadn't been for it, you probably wouldn't be so happy to be here as you are.'

'What do you mean?'

'All in good time,' Leo closes the topic, and Louis shrugs, not being sure what else to do. 'But I can tell you, though... If I hadn't been so busy attaching the final touches to it last night, you wouldn't have been as busy as you were.'

Louis smiles diffidently and turns to look at the rest of the canvases.

How did Leo know? Harry didn't seem to have told the painter all about Louis. 'This man is wise,' Louis thinks to himself. 'And he obviously likes ambiguous riddles.'

Louis's expression shifts as he catches a glimpse of a painting he recognises. 'Dear Lord! Is that _the Mona Lisa_?'

Leo has been gathering papers and brushes and graphite lead from the table and has his back to Louis. 'Indeed it is,' he confirms.

'I heard it had been stolen!' cries Louis, enthused. 'I thought I'd never get to see it! And here it is!' he motions to the painting with both of his arms and beams like a child who has just got a new toy. He lets out a big sigh and hunches his back to calm himself down. 'It's been literally my heart's desire, to just see this painting... I've listened to so many stories about it, you know, people talk... And now that I see it.... It's the most miraculous and beautiful thing I have ever seen!' He turns to Leo and bows deeply, 'Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work for you, Mr. Leonardo! Thank you, thank you, thank you!'

Leo laughs hard but Louis doesn't seem to notice the noise. His eyes are glued to the painting, a mesmerised look in them, jaw dropped and he is breathing heavily.

Leo approaches him and puts his hand on Louis's shoulder. 'Well, it is something. It's then that I knew Harry would make a perfect model.'

Louis closes his mouth and gulps, 'Ha.. Haarr... Harry?'

'Well yes, who else? I thought it was obvious?' He scratches his beard, 'I guess I'm not so skilled a painter as I thought I was.'

Louis panics and tries to apologise, 'No, no! No, don't get me wrong! You are, you really are!' He looks down and talks to himself, 'Damn it, you idiot! It's your first day and you already managed to eff up!' and hits himself in the head. Leo laughs and holds Louis's hands as he attempts to hit himself again.

'Haahahaha oh my dear boy hahah! Please, stop that! I was joking!'

Louis lifts his head and looks at the painter carefully and observantly, 'Really?'

'Of course.'

Louis exhales heavily. 'Good. I thought I lost the job even before I even got it,' he smiles meekly. 'It's just... Harry doesn't - '

'Yes?' Louis gets interrupted mid-sentence by Harry's appearance at the door. Naked.

'I heard someone say my name; I thought it only polite to come to you.'

Leo nudges Louis, who is completely dumbstruck with a dropped jaw. 'Told you he'd come back,' whispers the artist. Louis blinks several times more than needed and breathes out, 'Yes.' He wants to, but cannot, control his now big eyes stuck to Harry's flawless skin and his admirable features.

Harry frowns, his hand on the doorframe, so opening and showing off his envy-worthy body, 'Yes what?'

Louis involuntarily stutters, 'Yes, penis!... I mean, I uh...' He looks pleadingly at Leo, his eyes begging for help.

'Come on, Harry. You see the boy here has problems adjusting to our atmosphere. Go easy on him, he's probably never seen a naked man before; other than himself, that is,' he winks at Louis.

'I.....,' tries Louis, but he fails and puts his head in his hands.

Harry guffaws and approaches Louis, crossing his arms on his chest, placing most of his weight on his right leg, 'There, there. You'll have plenty of time to get to know a man's body,' he smirks as Louis glowers at him.

'I'm fine,' Louis sits up straight. 'I just... I just gagged, 's all.'

Leonardo hands him a glass of water, laughter slowly subsiding, all three of them sat around the table. 'Thank you.'

After downing the glass, he clears his throat and glares at Harry. ' _You_ are _the_ Mona Lisa!?'

Harry runs a hand through his locks, 'Of course I am! Could you believe everyone is convinced that it's that unbecoming rogue Salai?!'

He glares at Leo, who laughs. 'He's not that unbecoming, darling.'

'Unbecoming enough,' retorts Harry, repulsion in his voice.

Louis intrudes the banter, 'Excuse me, Salai?'

'Just a male prostitute who once or twice visited the old man here and then went about telling everyone that he is the model in the paintings! He!'

Leo guffaws, 'What else did he say, love?'

Harry starts fervently, 'He said..!' but hesitates and lowers his tone, 'He said my hair is not naturally curly.' He finishes, caressing his locks while doing so.

Louis holds back laughter, 'I would never say that.'

Harry shifts his look from his shiny, scented locks to Louis, who looks like he's sick from the laughter he's holding. 'Really?' says Harry with a voice of a child and a face of a kitten.

Leo whispers to Louis as Harry cuddles his curls, 'It's a painful spot for him, his hair.'

'I can see that,' Louis chuckles.

Harry leans an elbow on the table and gesticulates elegantly with his hand. 'I don't understand why people like him. He's not a catch, and he's definitely not an amiable person. It must be the nickname.' He uncrosses his legs and hops from the chair with a look in his eyes that says he's got an idea. 'I must think of one for myself!' He starts pacing up and down, one hand gently pinching his lower lip and the other on his bare hip. 'It should be a strong word - representing my sublime beauty and my unbeatable sass!' Harry stops in front of a big piece of glass on the wall and looks lovingly at his reflection, then flicks hair off his shoulder and carries on tilting his head at the Harry in the mirror. Louis follows Harry's each move with his eyes, how subtly he carries his weight and balances his hips right to left, slowly and like he's not trying at all, looking like a prince and holding himself like one, and as Louis feels drools in the corner of his lips, he regains his composure and speaks up, interrupting Harry's flirting with himself.

'I am thinking something Greek. Something grandeur, but yet reachable; something inviting, but yet distant.' He scans Harry head to toe. 'And something sexy.'

Harry catches himself blush and feigns to massage his eyes. He straightens himself after a moment and coughs subtly.

'Yes, yes...' he mumbles. As soon as he feels the blush wearing off, he eyes Louis, 'Like what?'

Seeing through Louis's shameless flirting, Leo interrupts, 'Don't be silly, love. All those qualities are already contained in your name. You don't need a new one to prove that you're magnificent.'

'You're flattering me now, Leo. I can see that.'

'I can't help it, darling.'

'Maybe you shouldn't,' whispers Harry almost soundlessly as he settles astride the painter's thighs. Leonardo places his hands on Harry's hips as Harry nuzzles into the artist's neck.

Louis fidgets in his chair, utterly uncomfortable, 'Ummm... Should I leave you two alone or..?'

Harry startles sobered by Louis's voice and faces Louis. 'Of course not. You just arrived.' Harry untangles from the painter's embrace and sets his feet on the ground, respectively. 'Come, I'll show you my room.'

'Ummm... fine..? But how is that relevant to my job?'

'That's not your worry, darling. Just come along,' Harry smiles sneakily. He takes Louis by the arm, leaving the artist behind - Leo is used to Harry's fluid moods - and heads to his own bedroom, holding Louis tightly. Letting Louis go in first, like a proper gentleman he is, Harry closes the door behind him and is face to face with Louis, who is stood evidently confused.

'Could you put on some..-' Louis speaks, but is cut off by Harry who runs at him headfirst and snatches him by the shirt, slams him against the door and glues their lips together in a passionate kiss. Louis responds and kisses back, quick, shallow breaths escaping his mouth, and he runs his hands down Harry's back and grabs his bottom, as Harry goes to kiss Louis's neck and leave love bites. Out of the blue, just as Louis thinks they're getting it on, Harry steps back and frowns at Louis.

'What?' Louis breathes out.

'I think I am the one to ask that.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Umm... I don't know... LAST NIGHT?' He makes an extra effort to emphasise the last two words.

'What about it?'

Harry crosses his arms. 'Are you being serious?'

'Leo said you liked mystery,' Louis smirks.

'Wha...?' Harry loses his breath and sulks. 'You didn't know that.'

Louis laughs, 'I was in the bathroom, puppy.'

He sees a bemused gaze on Harry's face and adds, still laughing, 'Last night. And close your mouth.' He continues, 'I went to the bathroom to relieve myself and I heard you meander in the room and mutter my name, so I peeked and you were on the floor, rolling like a kitten playing in the sun. Thought you were coming to the bathroom as well. As I flushed the toilet and opened the door, you were stumbling with your clothes in your hands out of my window.'

Harry cringes. 'I did _not_.'

Though that would explain why he still hasn't found his clothes from the day before; he must have dropped it somewhere on his way home.

Harry pouts and keeping his pretence on, hisses, 'I think I would know.'

Louis places his hands on Harry's hips. 'Harry, does one run away from their own home, leaving a stranger there?' He draws Harry closer to him and kisses his neck.

He hears Harry mumble between the kisses he puts on Louis's cheek and ear, 'Well, you didn't seem to mind screwing a stranger.'

Leonardo calls them out from the dining room, 'Boys, we need to start!'

The two exchange a couple of lust hungry looks and Harry draws to Louis, dangerously close to Louis's lips, to reach the doorknob - their faces a few centimeters apart. 'Excuse me, I need to open the door, duty calling.'

'Booty calling,' Louis whispers and Harry giggles as they exit the room to meet the painter.

'Hope you examined the room properly, you'll definitely need that,' Leo calls over his shoulder. The two boys look embarrassedly at each other when Leonardo adds, 'Come on; Harry, get on the stand. You, Louis, come here, sit and watch how art is born.'

Harry trudges to the stand to mock the painter with the false reluctance and the painter slaps Harry's bare bum, as Louis starts and his eyes widen. Why was he still surprised by moments like this?

Leo pats a chair next to his own for Louis to sit down as Harry fixes his profile for Leo.

'I'm doing a study, it's your lucky day. The one you got friendly with earlier is a bit... obsolete.'

Louis frowns. 'How come?' Louis takes the seat and lulls back into the chair. The frown melts away from his face and instead of the scrunched lines between his eyebrows, there is an embarrassed realisation plastered over his expression.

'Oh...'

Leo chuckles. 'Our young Harry is grown now.'

Harry giggles from the stand and as Louis catches a sight of him, Harry smiles shyly, blushing.

~~~

That night Harry is lying alone in his bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark.

Why is Louis on his mind just before Harry goes to sleep? I mean, he does have those gorgeous eyes, and that enchanting smile, and he glows when he looks at Harry, but it cannot be.

And may Harry notice, Louis is so cute when he blushes. And he is so amiable and kind...

Suddenly Harry is wondering if Louis is sleeping well, if he's tossing and turning in his bed like Harry is, if he's perchance thinking about Harry - and Harry gets scared at the thought that Louis might not. Maybe he's with someone else and the thought of Harry is behind the last thing on Louis's mind. Maybe Louis doesn't think Harry is special, even though Louis makes him feel like he is. What is he to Louis, anyway? Why would he waste his thoughts on Harry? Harry catches himself hoping the reality is different from these frightening thoughts.

Harry starts vehemently from his bed. It cannot be. It just cannot be. Not him. He gulps and sits on the bed leaning his head on his hands, his elbows against his knees. No, no, no... Just no.

Harry shakes his head wishing he could shake the thoughts out of his mind. It's stupid.

But then again...

A hard slam of Leo's bedroom door is heard in the dark of the night as Harry runs into the room panting. 'Leo, I need to speak with you,' he breathes out.

The painter is startled by the sudden intrusion but nevertheless makes room for the boy to sit next to him.

'What is it?'

Harry falters, 'I think... I think I've fallen in love.'

Leo rubs his own eyes and smiles. 'Well, that's beautiful, Harry.' He pats the boy on the back. 'So, what's the problem?'

Harry is shocked. 'What do you mean - what's the problem? What's not?!'

'Harry, darling, let's not get too philosophical so late into the night. Tell me what bothers you.'

'I just told you.' Almost whispering the last words, Harry lets out a small breath and lets his body spring on Leo's mattress. He mumbles into the linen, 'I have difficulty believing that people could actually love, you know. That doesn't last.' He props on his side to face the painter.

'I saw the way you were looking at him, Harry. You've never looked at anyone so lovingly before. Not even me.'

_The painter and the boy had a history together. When Harry was only 15 and Leo was over 50, Harry knocked on Leo's door looking for a job as a model. Leo happened to be in need of one, so Harry was employed almost immediately. After a few drawings and a lot of talking with the generous painter of outstanding physical beauty, Harry started staying the night occasionally. As it goes with people who cannot bear being separated, Leo invited Harry to move in. Each of them was mesmerised by the other, admired each other's virtues and wisdom and a strain for aestheticism. Not for a moment came the question of the large age gap. The matter was exceedingly unimportant and therefore ignored. With years they stopped noticing it entirely. Harry is 21 now and if Leo taught him anything then that was that social norms should not dictate the terms of his life._

_Harry was impressed with Leo's breadth of mind, and Leo loved the mature spirit Harry had in himself, despite being so young. Harry grew with him, next to him, and to his heart. The two became like one as Leo taught Harry things he wouldn't get to learn anywhere else - to appreciate life and beauty, to seize the day, to not let his youth pass by, and to enjoy every moment of his existence. Truth be told though, Harry would sometimes take it too far, becoming the slag of the town, switching from boyfriend to boyfriend every other day. But he would always come back to Leo, and that made their bond so special._

'I'm sorry, Leo. I didn't mean to hurt you.'

'I'm not hurt, Harry. I knew this would come someday. You are young, you need your freedom, and I've hoped a lovely boy like Louis would cross your path and make your heart skip a beat. You deserve him, and you deserve the happiness you two will build together.'

'How did you know it was him?'

'He's the boy from the other night, isn't he?'

Harry lets his eyes fall down towards the floor. Leo gently lifts up his chin and chuckles. 'I should have known. You always get aggressive towards those you're attracted to. As if you blamed them for it. And you get exaggeratedly defensive - one can see right through you. I thought you would jump at him any moment. I could almost _hear_ you growl.'

The painter caresses Harry's hair as Harry relives all of the memories with the painter and sees them as real and familiar as if they had happened the day before. He feels he's betraying Leo for loving someone else.

_He never thought of Leo that way. He never thought of loving, that is. A person, at least. In his past he was never exposed to someone he would like so much that he would stay with them for more than a night or two. With Leo it was different. Leo amazed him on so many levels; he was smart, witty, attractive, wise and subtle. He kept his private life secret, and Harry liked that. The painter showed him how healthy one's life is when they turn to vegetarianism. Since he moved in, he hasn't eaten a piece of meat and he feels great about it._

_But he never thought he loved Leo. The painter told him stories of love, his own numerous affairs, and about the fragile web woven between two people in love. But those were merely fairytales to Harry. Obviously, he knew Leo loved him, the older man never made an effort to hide it, but they didn't discuss it, and they didn't need to. They simply lived together, enjoying each other's company, without getting too deep about it, which worked for Harry, and Leo didn't seem to mind, either._

'Don't be like that, darling. I see guilt in your eyes. Get rid of it and go enjoy your life.' He prods Harry, and Harry knows what he needs to do.

'I think I'll be back by morning,' Harry decides.

'Take your time.' Leo winks and goes back to bed as Harry softly exits the painter's bedroom with a new kind of warmth in his heart that he's never felt before, and a scorching urge to kiss the lips of the sky-eyed boy.

~~~

'What do you mean - you're in love? Are you sure we're talking about the same person?' asks the familiar plump tavern owner. She laughs and approaches Louis and touches his forehead motherly. 'You feeling alright, Lou?'

Emptying the pitcher of mead in one draught, Louis clears the remains of the liquid around his lips with his sleeve.

'Feeling very well, Mary, thank you.' He gently removes her hand and plants a peck on her cheek. 'See you tomorrow!'

'Leaving already, my boy?' Mary chuckles.

With an upward tilt to his lips, Louis goes along with Mary's mockery. 'Don't want to overstay my welcome!' He's been there for the last five hours. It's past three in the morning and Louis has started yawning a long time ago. It's been a big day.

Mary winks. 'Take care, love!'

Louis puts his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he exits the tavern's door into the dark night. As he steps outside the first gush of cool air bites at Louis's cheeks, and as he shivers he wishes he had remembered to carry an overcoat. So he huddles into his flimsy shirt and makes small steps to warm up as soon as possible. Luckily, his home is not far away from the tavern. He heads down the long, dimly lit street leading to his small house.

Mary knows him better that anyone, and she was surprised when he told her. Louis never really was the romantic type, he admits to himself, but with Harry it is different. Louis was never fond of feelings he could not label and explain, but now it doesn't seem to matter. 'It's only two days, one could not develop any kind of serious feelings of eternal attachment so soon,' he thinks to himself, but his heart speaks differently. He wishes Harry loved him, too. He wishes he could just go to Harry's house and jump into his bed and cuddle with him until they fall asleep. But it is in vain, especially because Harry is obviously the non-commitment type.

And so there Louis is, vulnerable and broken, for the one he loves doesn't love him back. The amount of alcohol in his bloodstream is not abundant enough and so he is forced to feel every grain of pain caused by rejection and disappointment.

Approaching his house in small steps, he lifts his eyes to see a bundle on his doorstep. Is it a bundle? Louis narrows his eyes. No, it's a person. And the person is fast asleep in front of his home. Louis thinks for a moment, clueless about what to do. He clears his throat.

'Um.. hi?'

The person sat on his doormat starts and unintentionally kicks the back of their head on the door.

'Ouch!' cries a husky male voice.

Okay, so it's a man.

'Can I help you?'

The man, dressed in a massive cloak, a hood over his head, attempts to get up, but slips and so hits hard on his bum. With his head bent between his knees, the man feels for the doorknob for support, but Louis steps in and helps him get on his feet.

'I am really sorry. Are you okay? Can I get you some-' Louis is cut off by the sight. It's Harry. The man under a cloak, crouched just a moment before in front of him, groaning with pain and unable to stand on his two feet is Harry.

'Hi,' Harry says.

And he's not even drunk.

'You alright?'

'Ummm yeah, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be? How about you?'

Louis notices the unwilling wince on Harry's face and how he blinks one eye at a time, extremely slowly.

'Harry. I meant your back and your head. You hit them really hard.'

'Oh, that. Sure. Fine. I'm fi-' Harry opens his mouth to finish the sentence but fails to do so as he faints.

'Oh, Lord.' Louis prevents him from falling by holding him tightly around his waist. He gets the boy quickly into his room and places him on the bed. He is heavier than he seems. 'Damn it, Harry.'

Louis goes to the kitchen to fetch a cloth and a bucket of water to help Harry come round. He tries slapping his cheeks first, and as Harry does not react, Louis is forced to do something Harry would never forgive him.

He is going to make his hair wet.

'Okay, you can do it, Louis, he'll understand, it's for his own good,' Louis encourages himself and with his eyes closed drops the content of the bucket on Harry's face. He waits to see if the fainted damsel reacts and since he seems to be spitting out the water, Louis throws a cloth on Harry and jumps away from him. 'You fainted, I had to do it! There's the cloth, dry your hair. Oh God, I'm so sorry!' Louis hysterically jumps about the room as Harry is entirely dazed and confused about what is going on. As he straightens up in the bed he becomes aware of the damp on his head. He screams with terror.

'My hair! You ruined my hair! Do you know how fragile it is?' Harry jumps from the bed and crumples his hair in his hands. He hisses, 'You son of a-'

'The cloth, take the cloth!' Louis screams back at him, frightened.

'I will hate you for this forever, you know that.'

'I know, Harry, I know!' Louis uncontrollably hops from foot to foot, biting his fingernails. 'I was just trying to help!'

Harry settles back calmly on the bed and leans against the wall fondling his damp locks and wiping the water off of his face. The angry expression on his face grows to a mild smile. 'Thank you.'

Louis glares at Harry, unsure if he's heard his words well, tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

'Come here,' Harry invites Louis to sit next to him.

Louis raises a brow. 'Is this a setup? Are you trying to trick me into coming to you and then snap my neck or something?'

'Yes, Louis, that's exactly what I'm trying to do.'

Louis snorts and carefully approaches the beauty on his bed and snuggles next to him. They both stare at an undefined point somewhere in front of them for a while, until Harry clears his throat.

'So, uh...'

Louis instinctively turns to Harry, as if he had been just waiting for him to say something.

'I came to your house to tell you something.'

Louis whispers, 'Yes?'

'I mean, it's a bit too soon, I know, and I'm acting really childishly, more than I usually do, that is... if that's even possible,' Harry rambles. 'Of course, you are not obliged to feel the same, I just... I feel like I need to tell you, perhaps then I'd feel better.' He stares at his hands. 'I feel this burden, you know, and Leo said you should know... He is experienced, I guess, I wouldn't know how to act... This has never happened to me.. Well, perhaps once, when I was younger, but I don't really recall it that well-'

Harry is caught off guard when he feels Louis's lips on his own, a strong odour of mead circling around the lovers and splashing into Harry's face, Louis's moist lips gently parted to accept Harry's own and a hand softly cupping Harry's cheek as they exchange a warm kiss.

Louis retrieves to his former position, a satisfied smile on his face. Neither of them says a word when Harry bites his lip and lets out a soft giggle.

~ ~ ~

The sun is breaking through the curtains of Louis's home as Harry slowly untangles from the spooned position in which he finds himself this morning. He smiles happily to himself and turns his head to Louis who is still asleep.

'Morning, sweetcheeks,' Harry whispers as he plants a kiss on Louis's hand that has held him throughout the night.

'Hey,' Louis responds drowsily and smiles as he lazily opens his eyes.

'Slept well?'

'Never better,' Louis concedes as he nuzzles into Harry's locks.

'I need to go and meet Leo. Just to let him know I'm fine.'

'Be back soon, love. I'll miss you.'

'Okay,' Harry beams.

~ ~ ~

Louis excitedly jumps from his bed as he hears a knock. He has made breakfast and decorated the room with various flowers - from the bright amaryllis to the aster and concluding with a bouquet of daffodils. Love like this deserves a proper celebration. Glancing one more time over his living room to make sure everything's in place, he opens the door, a wide smile on his face.

The smile fades as soon as he sees Harry's expression.

'What's wrong?'

Harry lifts his head and Louis notices tears on his cheeks.

'Hey, hey...' Louis cups his chin and kisses his forehead. 'Come in, come.'

They sit on a couch and Louis embraces Harry, who looks smaller than ever, and Louis feels as if he were holding a child in his arms. It's then when he notices that Harry is holding a letter in his hands.

Harry sobs, 'Leo left, Louis. He's gone.'

Louis couldn't thought this would be the reason why Harry is crying. 'What?'

'He says it's for the best. He says I'll be happier without him.'

Harry motions to the letter. 'He...-' Harry sniffles, 'he says I'll find my happiness with you.' Finishing the sentence, Harry bursts into tears, and Louis holds him even closer.

'He really loves you, doesn't he?' whispers Louis and feels Harry nodding on his chest.

~ ~ ~

'He concludes his letter with the following:

 _I need you to be strong, like I always knew you were. Love has come to you, so open your doors and let yourself feel. He is your destiny. Love always, Leo_ '

Harry folds the paper and puts it back in the envelope. As he is wiping his nose, he searches Louis's face for a reaction.

'I think he's right,' Louis states after a few moments of silence.

Harry bites his lip. 'I think so, too.'

~ ~ ~

'Looouuiiiiis!' Louis hears Harry's voice cheerfully calling out for him. He puts down his brush and palette and brushes his hands against his apron, having finished the latest portrait of Harry. Harry runs towards him from the other room, having that childlike grin as he always has had. It's there after all these years, and it's one of the numerous reasons why Louis can't imagine his life without this ever happy puppy.

'I've received a letter!' Harry flourishes an envelope in his hand. 'From Leo! Look!' Harry shoves the paper into Louis's hands. 'Go ahead, read it!'

Louis cautiously opens the paper and sees a single sentence written in a neat handwriting:

_I know you were not an idiot to let him go._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://malarryous.tumblr.com/).  
> The post is [here](http://malarryous.tumblr.com/post/130715600817/people-fall-in-love-in-mysterious-ways-on-ao3).


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